


It Takes a Village

by thooluu



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Community: yuletide_smut, First Time, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of past attempted non-con are not graphic, Mild Gore, Oral Sex, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thooluu/pseuds/thooluu
Summary: Sanzo brooded, vented his rage on his companions and enemies alike, or brought himself off quickly and dispassionately in private rooms or showers when it became too much. It was never enough to banish his darkest thoughts for long. Gojyo understood well the escape that falling into bed with someone offered, sought the heat only another body could provide. In all its striking clarity, Sanzo realized that he longed toburn.Beccafiend made some lovely fan art for this fic, I am so happy! You can check it outHERE





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Late4f8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Late4f8/gifts).



Shakujou’s crescent blade whistled by Sanzo’s face while he reloaded his gun, the chain that followed shifted strands of golden hair in its wake. The monk did not flinch away from it; he had long trusted Gojyo’s skill with the weapon. Nor did he recoil in disgust as the blade struck down the charging youkai, splattering blood across his robes and face. The blond merely snapped the bullet chamber back into place and resumed picking off enemies as efficiently as possible. That youkai had gotten far too close for Sanzo’s comfort.

The nearer they were to Houtou, the more crazed and relentless their enemies became. This battle had been particularly long and arduous, the waves of youkai crashed upon them with no end in sight. On top of that, this group was more organized than usual, actively working to separate them from one another in an attempt to pick them off. Sanzo quickly scanned the battlefield, saw Hakkai and Goku had managed to stay together, working in unison to thin out the ranks. Goku’s taunts and battle cries occasionally reached his ears over the din.

Sanzo nodded a quick acknowledgement to Gojyo; the redhead had been actively clearing a path to regroup with the monk. Once reunited, they stood to fight back to back against the oncoming horde. They were close enough to brush against each other as they fought, Gojyo occasionally steadying himself and Sanzo with a strong hand on his lower back, shifting them into better positions for counter-attack. Each touch sent heat through his body, radiating from the point of contact despite multiple layers of clothing. Sanzo did not have time to properly examine why he was affected by Gojyo’s proximity while in the heat of battle, though he had been pondering this heightened awareness of late. Had caught the hanyou stealing glances at him with an unfamiliar expression through the mirror in Jeep, over dinner tables and campfires for weeks now. The covert glances occurred more often, lingered when they had a particularly rough day on the road. Sanzo could practically feel crimson eyes boring a hole in the back of head or nape of his neck from the back seat on those days. He was more conscious of his body in these quiet moments; his skin felt stretched too tight under the scrutiny. Thus far he had said nothing; to confront Gojyo on the subject, to demand answers would be admitting he noticed, could give away he had let it continue this long. Sanzo wasn’t certain he wanted to know the truth, so the game of pretending everything was business as usual continued. 

Together they made a well-oiled machine; had fought side-by-side long enough to anticipate and complement each other’s next move. However; the youkai were becoming more desperate and savage in their onslaught as Sanzo and Gojyo cut them down, their numbers finally starting to dwindle. More of them charged together, some even harming each other in their haste. It was getting difficult for Gojyo to maintain control over the crescent blade and chain while attacking with the spade-end of shakujou and covering for Sanzo while he reloaded. Sanzo alternated between hand-to-hand combat and the gun—he couldn’t reload quick enough. Unfortunately, the priest hadn’t had enough time to unleash the Maten scripture from the start of the battle, much less now. 

The youkai were coming on too fast; they would soon be overwhelmed if they didn’t regroup with Hakkai and Goku. The grass was slick with morning dew, making it more difficult to navigate. Sanzo felt Gojyo suddenly shift away from him as he snapped a fresh chamber of rounds into place. “Shit!” Gojyo barked out; a youkai had intercepted the crescent blade’s chain with his sword and yanked him off-balance on the slippery ground. Sanzo had his own problems to deal with, namely two youkai bearing down on him, weapons at the ready. He had taken one out when he heard another enemy behind him shout, “You’re dead, half-breed!” Glancing back, Sanzo saw a hulking youkai ready to swing his sword down on Gojyo who was still struggling to regain his footing. 

Sanzo’s blood ran cold, his chest tight and aching with raw, intense fear. He turned to face Gojyo’s back, aimed the gun over his shoulder and fired two shots. The youkai crumpled as the redhead fell to one knee, cursing and clutching his ear. Gojyo turned to look at the monk and was seized by panic of his own as he spotted the youkai Sanzo had consciously turned his back on; he wouldn’t be able to defend the monk fast enough. The blond only had time to tense up in preparation for the youkai’s blade to run him through, when a well-aimed chi blast suddenly stopped the enemy in his tracks. 

“Sorry to have kept you waiting!” Hakkai’s voice floated to them, a welcome sound. 

Goku leapt over a group of youkai, landing next to Gojyo with a cocky smile. Immediately, he started dishing out punishment via nyoibo.

“Did you have to shoot that right next to my head? I can’t hear a damn thing!” Gojyo shouted over the ringing in his ear. 

“Next time you can do us all a favor and just drop dead.” Sanzo coolly responded while downing another enemy. His heart was pounding against his ribcage painfully.

“But then you wouldn’t get to see this handsome face every day.” He shot the blond a sly wink.

“Tch. Who’d want to, idiot?”

Goku threw an exaggerated sound of disgust over his shoulder, “Ugh, pass.” 

The redhead issued a one-finger salute to them both, Hakkai laughing at the exchange as he worked diligently to clear the battlefield along with the rest of them. Together, the four of them were a force to be reckoned with and the remaining youkai were dispatched in short order. They slowly made their way back to the rough dirt path that served as the road, exhausted. Jeep flew down from the tree branch he had taken shelter on and landed gracefully on Hakkai’s shoulder, nuzzling his face with a happy chirp. 

Scrapes were disinfected, bandages applied, and they were back on the road again. Gojyo was sprawled out in the backseat, encroaching on Goku’s space with his long legs, but the brunette didn’t muster the energy to complain. They were all exhausted from the morning battle. Jeep was enveloped in companionable silence as they trekked onward. Sanzo’s eyes were drawn to Gojyo’s hair hypnotically flitting on the wind in the midday sun, until questioning crimson eyes met his in the mirror, their owner quirking an eyebrow and breaking into a small crooked smile. Caught in the act, the blond shifted under his gaze and looked away to the horizon. This was also part of the game, pretending he didn’t steal glances of his own.

According to Hakkai, there was a village not far off where they could stay for the night and resupply. Before long, Sanzo spotted the silhouettes of buildings in the distance. He relaxed as they grew nearer to their destination, daydreaming about a hot shower until the scent of charred things reached him, unlike the smell of a cooking fire. Goku was fully alert in the backseat, eyes seeking the source—his senses sharper than the rest of them. The tension grew as the village came fully into view. Most of the shops and homes had been reduced to burnt-out husks, blackened and falling in on themselves. The four of them exited the vehicle to look about, glean what had come to pass. Jeep reverted to his dragon form and took to circling the sky above them, keening mournfully at the lack of life below. They walked cautiously down the main road between the wooden skeletons, the evidence around them telling a story that the silence did not. The few homes that were not claimed by fire had been rifled through for valuables—dresser drawers, toys and clothing strewn about. Claw marks were gouged in furniture and walls, unmistakably youkai in nature. Deep russet stains marked the ground where rain nor time had faded them completely. Despite the human toll that had been extracted, there were no bodies to be seen. That realization unsettled them all to no small degree.

“There’s another village on the map we can make by nightfall.” Hakkai informed them quietly. His subdued voice still seemed loud in the tomb the small village had become. Goku wandered a short distance from the rest of them, staring into the ruin of what was once a shop. He kicked a rock into the charred shell of an outer wall; his fists clenched at his sides. Sanzo stepped behind him and quickly tugged his sleeve to get his attention, “Let’s go, monkey.” 

Goku turned to follow Sanzo, “Do you think…” he trailed off, thought better to let the question die on his lips when he saw the slump of the blond’s shoulders as he walked toward Gojyo and Hakkai. Underneath the char and ash, Goku smelled death. If anyone had escaped with their life, they were no longer here. It was unproductive to speculate on their fate. Any hopes and dreams attached to this place had been burned away prior to their arrival.

They made it to the next village just before nightfall. The only inn was in a considerable state of disrepair: questionable floorboards, drafty windows and a roof liable to leak when it rained, but it was a significant improvement over camping out. It offered running water, a small restaurant and enough beds for all of them. Sanzo retreated to one of the two rooms secured by Hakkai to shower before dinner. The urge to properly wash the filth from his face and hair overrode everything else. Sanzo leaned slightly against the tile of the shower surround as water ran over his body, soothing his tired muscles. He inanely wished the hot spray could cleanse him of the pervasive thoughts that haunted him as he watched blood and dirt swirl lazy arcs around the drain. Gojyo’s hair dancing on the breeze, the curve of his lips in a knowing smile, his strong hand on the small of Sanzo’s back. Gojyo’s dull, lifeless eyes staring at nothing from where he lay silent on the dew-covered grass. The blond viciously scrubbed his hair and skin, wanting nothing more than to wash off the entire day. Long after the water ran clear, the images remained.

Sanzo dressed in a loose, cream-colored knit sweater that he suspected Hakkai had snuck into his pack at some point, likely to keep him from catching a chill. The man was a meddler, if anything. Begrudgingly, it had become his favorite thing to wear on cold nights and had started to show signs of wear, unravelled in spots along the hem. He pulled on a pair of old jeans and boots and made his way downstairs to regroup with the others. As Sanzo entered the dining room, Goku waved him over to their table and continued to tuck into his meal, albeit with less gusto than usual. He hadn’t complained about being hungry since the last village, it was a welcome sight to see he still had an appetite. Hakkai was sipping tea and reviewing the map, the smile directed at the monk noticeably forced. As he made his way to them, Gojyo’s gaze shifted to an exposed collarbone before settling on his thigh where the jeans had worn thin, a small patch of skin surrounded by frayed material. The hanyou was far more blatant than usual, putting Sanzo on edge. Curiously, the disgust that normally accompanied such a visual assessment was absent. Not wishing to examine that oddity any further, the blond quickly seated himself and snapped a menu open, erecting a barrier between himself and the redhead’s scrutiny. 

Dinner was an understandably quiet affair given the sort of day that had transpired. Gojyo and Goku squabbled over food just enough to satisfy the status quo. Sanzo picked at his meal, mostly rearranging it on his plate versus putting down anything substantial. With Hakkai, he discussed only necessities: supplies to be purchased, details of their route tomorrow, when to meet for breakfast. Gojyo focused on new targets. His eyes scanned the room, likely identifying prospects for the evening. Sanzo found himself trying to recall the last time Gojyo had disappeared with a stranger for the night. He couldn’t pinpoint a time in recent memory. The redhead had either been especially discreet or, more likely, his options sparse. Sanzo chastised himself for devoting any thought at all to Gojyo’s sex-life. It was none of his concern whom he took to bed as long as it didn’t interfere with the mission. Sanzo needed to get some sleep; his brain was a veritable minefield of subjects he did not want to broach at the moment, if ever.

Another meal consumed, the four of them retreated to their rooms, Hakkai issuing a quiet “Goodnight” to Sanzo before entering his and Goku’s room further down the hall. Gojyo grabbed his shower bag, disappearing into their own room’s bathroom without so much as a backward glance. Goku lingered in the hallway, scuffing a foot nervously against the worn floor. Sanzo waited for the brunette to share what was on mind. The silence stretched awkwardly until he met Goku halfway with a gruff, “Out with it.”

“...Those people were probably just minding their own business, just livin’ and,” he paused, considering his next words, “then they weren’t.” Burnt-out buildings flashed through Sanzo’s mind. Goku continued, “But we’re still here. And we have each other. It’s not right.”

“Then live enough until it is. We still have a job to do, annoying as it is.” He ruffled Goku’s hair a moment before stilling his hand, letting it rest on his head. The brunette brightened a bit at the contact.

“Go to bed, monkey.” 

“Yeah…See you in the morning, Sanzo.”

After dismissing Goku for the night, Sanzo perched on the windowsill between the two beds in his room, a bent knee resting against the glass of the partially open window, his other leg stretching toward the floor. He rested a shoulder blade against the window’s frame closest to the bed he had claimed. Having rid himself of boots, his bare feet were chilled from the night air, but he paid them no mind. He was nursing a glass of whiskey as Gojyo exited the bathroom wearing sleep pants slung low on his hips, drying his hair with a towel. Sanzo thought that Gojyo was doing a poor job drying off as he watched a set of water drops run a course from the redhead’s chest all the way down into one of the valleys where his lower stomach muscles cut towards his groin. With shameful heat flooding his body, he refocused his gaze on the Marlboros, lighter and ashtray he had set next to himself on the windowsill earlier. Gojyo sauntered over to the bed opposite Sanzo, pulling his Zippo and a pack of Hi-Lites out of his duffel. Holding a cigarette in his lips, Sanzo attempted to light up without any luck. As he fought with the cheap lighter, a flame appeared before him, produced by the Zippo. The blond glanced at Gojyo hesitantly, then leaned forward to accept the flame, cigarette still in his mouth. Closing his eyes, Sanzo took a deep drag. Exhaled. Gojyo observed him as he lit his own cigarette then set the Zippo next to the ashtray.

“You know, you could thank me.” 

Sanzo narrowed his eyes at him. “I could shoot you, too.”

“Ooh, touchy.” Gojyo smirked, his retort playful. He waved his cigarette hand dramatically with feigned indignation, sending smoke whirling about. 

“...Moron.” Sanzo only quirked an eyebrow, the insult not conveying the usual level of annoyance. They smoked quietly, Sanzo looking out the window, Gojyo watching Sanzo here and there. The redhead leaned back on his hand with a sigh.  
“Shitty day, yeah?”

It was obvious Gojyo was looking for something from Sanzo, acknowledgement or comfort, he was not quite sure. Looking at the redhead out of the corner of his eye, he took another drag, then simply grunted an agreement, sliding the glass of whiskey over to Gojyo, who downed it immediately. Tit for tat, a thanks for the light. Sanzo resumed staring out the window, hoping sleep would come easily once settled. Unconsciously, he twirled a loose thread at the hem of his sweater. Gojyo watched the blond’s fingers work the fray and grew tense. 

Sanzo sensed the shift in Gojyo’s demeanor before he spoke, “Earlier, what was that?”, all traces of humor gone. 

“What was what?”

Gojyo’s voice rose, angry and raw, “You could have gotten another hole in your gut pulling that stunt. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gojyo had never learned to just leave things where they lay. Attempting to avoid the topic entirely was the only logical approach.

“The hell you don’t, monk.” Gojyo paused, raking his hands through his hair in frustration, “Have my back, but don’t take the fall for me.” There was no mistaking the flash of guilt that passed over the redhead’s face. He understood now why Gojyo had waited until they were alone to bring this up.

Sanzo took a long drag on his cigarette, considering his next move. He had shielded Gojyo to protect himself as much as the redhead, for reasons he would never voice aloud. Recalling Gojyo, as he was about to be cut down right in front of him, caused the ache to resurface in his chest. The thought of adding another body to the pile already behind him made him feel ill. All of them said that they chose to fight for their own reasons, but Sanzo was arguably the axis on which they all turned, the one leading them into hell. The burden of responsibility weighed heavy on his mind. It was difficult to live in each other’s pockets every day, fight for one another, experience the world going mad together without becoming invested, despite his efforts to the contrary. There were so many things he would never say, most days wouldn’t even admit to himself. His stomach turned. 

“...Whatever. You done now?”

“You _always_ do that. Blow us off, act like you don’t care. It’s a bunch of bull, Sanzo! I’m so friggin’ tired of it!” Gojyo’s voice echoed loudly off the walls of the small room. At this rate, Hakkai and Goku were likely to barge in to see what the fuss was about. The intensity in Gojyo’s voice threw Sanzo off-kilter. He sensed things coming to a head, that something was about to give. The tension he had been feeling around Gojyo for the past few weeks settled low in his stomach.

“I’m not in the mood for your whining. Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.” Sanzo bit out. The trigger finger on his free hand twitched weakly.

“Back to threats, huh? You’re so predictable, monk. Not this time, no. I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen.” His tone brooked no argument.

“Like hell!” Sanzo wasn't one to back down. 

Gojyo was suddenly off the bed, looming over Sanzo—entirely too far inside his personal space. Sanzo reflexively jerked his head backwards, glaring murder. His skull sounded a dull thunk against the wooden trim of the window. The blond raised a fist to lash out, but Gojyo’s pinched expression stayed his hand. 

“If you get yourself killed by some no-name youkai before we get to Houtou, then everything, all this,” Gojyo waved his hands around vaguely, “was pointless. How many more ransacked villages you think there will be then, huh?” The redhead smashed the cigarette butt out in the ashtray forcefully in anger.

“What, you want me to let them carve you up next time?” Sanzo flicked his ash onto the floor, forgetting the ashtray in his indignation.

“Don’t expect me to cry at your funeral, shitty kappa.” 

Gojyo growled wordlessly in frustration before continuing, “You can be such a prick!” His fists were clenched, words tumbling out, “Have my back, but don’t go tryin’ to die! We have to finish this bullshit journey and to do that I need you—,” he paused, a horrified look passing over his face before he could stop it, “ _We_ need you, Sanzo.” Sanzo inhaled sharply on his cigarette at the slip in phrasing. His wide eyes sought Gojyo’s, stomach clenched tight like a vice.

Well and truly caught, something inside Gojyo snapped. He crowded Sanzo further and hastily plucked the cigarette trapped between his lips, grinding it out next to his discarded one. Before Sanzo could properly voice his rage, the redhead surged forward, pressing his own lips to the corner of Sanzo’s mouth. At this distance he realized Gojyo’s long eyelashes were a mix of deep black, auburn and crimson. _‘Beautiful’_ —the word hit Sanzo like a sledgehammer, his fist hit nothing at all.

The redhead's lips were soft and generous and the moment stretched as Sanzo let it happen, allowed Gojyo to kiss him. His nerves were alight; sudden, sharp arousal burning through him, threatening to rob him of breath and thoughts. The unfamiliar sensations shocked him into stillness, blood rushing in his ears. Gojyo’s eyes closed as his tongue licked tentatively at Sanzo’s bottom lip, still off-center, teasing gently. His hands settled on Sanzo’s shoulders, pushing him further backwards on the window sill. The unforgiving metal of the gun dug sharply into his back where it was tucked into his jeans and the pain brought Sanzo back to himself. He planted both feet on the floor and shoved hard against Gojyo's chest with trembling hands. The redhead staggered, barely managing to regain his balance. The two men stared wide-eyed at each across the distance, their panting breaths loud in the otherwise silent room. 

“What the _fuck_?” Sanzo's growled words were strained, confused, even to his own ears. He fought the intense urge to lick his lips and taste the wetness Gojyo had left behind. Wondered if it would taste like whiskey or smoke; he thought he was going mad. The redhead’s hand moved to rub over his face sheepishly, trying to hide himself from Sanzo’s gaze.

As if surprised by his own actions, Gojyo managed a weak, “Shit. _Oh shit…_ ” as he turned to leave the room. Sanzo crossed the distance before Gojyo could reach the door, his hand gripping the redhead's forearm, stopping him. Gojyo did not turn around, shoulders slouched, posture that of a man sentenced to death by firing squad. If it were most anyone who had trampled on the boundary that Sanzo always maintained between himself and others, it might not have been far from the truth. That realization washed over him like wave; the blond’s body felt flushed, his hand shook slightly where he held onto the arm. Gojyo’s muscles flexed nervously in his grip. The monk focused his eyes on the damp red strands swaying slightly in the air. 

Gojyo finally broke the pregnant silence with a soft “Sanzo, I…”, 

“Shut up.” Sanzo cut him off between clenched teeth. He needed more time to think, to catch his breath, but the tightness in his stomach had spread to his chest. The room felt oppressively warm. He tugged Gojyo’s arm, whirling him around. 

“Why?” barely above a whisper, as much a question for himself as it was for the redhead. The tone of his voice prompted Gojyo to look up from where he was trying to melt a hole in the floorboards to fall through. He was astonished to see Sanzo's pupils were blown wide open, rings of amethyst barely visible. A light flush had settled high on his cheekbones and ears. A bit of the anger that he wore as armor settled back into his eyes, but it was at war with something stronger, an unmistakable expression he had never seen on Sanzo’s face in all their time travelling together. He recognized the look as he’d seen it staring back at him from dingy mirrors in rented rooms and from people whose names and faces he’d forget: _Desire._ Gojyo took a shuddering breath to attempt a response when Sanzo yanked him close and brought their lips together again.

Sanzo decided he didn’t need to hear Gojyo’s answer; had arrived at his own and it was all he could handle at that moment. Day in and out, they fought for their lives, battled against the clock, while it seemed the whole damn world was burning around them. The encroaching madness, killing and death again and again with no end in sight wore heavily on them all. A man could only take so much mindless bloodshed, shoulder the burden of disappointment for so long before he coiled tight to the point of snapping. Sanzo brooded, vented his rage on his companions and enemies alike, or brought himself off quickly and dispassionately in private rooms or showers when it became too much. It was never enough to banish his darkest thoughts for long. Gojyo understood well the escape that falling into bed with someone offered, sought the heat only another body could provide. In all its striking clarity, Sanzo realized that he longed to _burn._

Slowly, a hand made it into the redhead’s hair, carding through the long strands to cup the nape of his neck, Gojyo’s forearm still clutched tight in the other. Sanzo felt a hand settle on his waist, kneading gently. He didn’t have experience to fall back on, so he mirrored what he was shown earlier and flicked out this tongue to tease a line along Gojyo’s lips, at the seam of his mouth. The redhead sounded a small muffled moan that sent a spike of lust pounding through Sanzo’s body. Gojyo tilted his head slightly, slotting them together better as he opened his mouth and licked Sanzo’s tongue, coaxed it into his own mouth. Gojyo _did_ taste like whiskey and smoke, but something else entirely underneath it all, uniquely Gojyo. They slid along each other, breath hastening. As it became too much, they parted lips, gathering air before rejoining with increased urgency, pressing and suckling at one another, opening wider to take more of each other in. He fisted his hand in Gojyo’s hair, no longer content to simply let it rest against his neck.

For a moment, Sanzo was bitterly angry with himself. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t _want_ at all; but here they were, tasting each other in a rundown room in the middle of nowhere. In the end, it was so easy to give in, to seek pleasure in each other. Gojyo was _safe_ , offered respite from the insanity that pervaded their everyday lives. He would never use this against him, Sanzo knew it to the marrow of his bones. He had always been repulsed by the thought of being touched so intimately, especially by strangers whose motivations he could not trust. Begrudgingly, Sanzo trusted Gojyo with his life. Goku’s words echoed in his mind— _’We have each other.’_ He was sure using each other for sexual gratification as stress relief was not the meaning Goku had intended. 

Sanzo released Gojyo’s forearm, sliding the hand up his back, feeling the muscles shift under his fingers. Gojyo’s hands moved to rest on either side of his waist, slowly pulling him closer as if the blond would flee otherwise. He could feel the heat of Gojyo’s body, smell his aftershave, as they gravitated to each other. Sanzo broke off the kiss with an obscene sound as Gojyo gently rolled his hips into his, letting him feel how much he wanted. He willed away the slight panic that bubbled up at the feeling of Gojyo pushing into him. He released his grasp on crimson hair, sliding to rest both hands on Gojyo’s lower back, splayed fingertips depressing the skin around the twin dimples peeking out of his sleep pants. He canted his own hips, pressed his answering swell alongside Gojyo’s in a slow grind, pulling the redhead tighter still against him. Sanzo’s breath shuddered against the hanyou’s neck where he had tucked his face as he ground against him; learning what felt best as pleasure coiled in his gut and at the base of his spine. A gasp escaped him as Gojyo latched his hot mouth on the sensitive skin behind his ear, lips pressing wet kisses down to his bare shoulder where the oversized sweater had slipped. Gojyo took this as a good sign, sweeping a hand under his shirt, caressing his stomach and tugging at the hem with his other hand. Taking the hint, Sanzo extracted himself enough to pull the garment over his head, dropping it to the floor in a heap. They crashed into each other again, fingers grasping, hips pushing and pulling, mouths landing haphazardly on heated skin—Sanzo was starting to lose track, caught up in the unfamiliar sensations of touching and being touched. 

The firm press of Gojyo’s palm against the bulge of his jeans snapped him out of the daze he had fallen into. He melded himself into the touch, so good but not nearly enough. Sanzo realized belatedly that the button on his pants had been worked free, the zipper pull clasped in Gojyo’s fingers.

“Wanna make you feel good. Let me?” His drawl deeper than usual. Darkened eyes sought out Sanzo’s in the dim light of the room, Gojyo's expression simultaneously mischievous and seductive.

Sanzo could stop everything here; bury himself in the covers of his bed and pretend none of this had happened in the morning. The fire pounding through his veins compelled him to be honest with himself.

“Do it.” He rasped out against Gojyo’s chin before claiming his mouth for an artless kiss, all tongue and teeth. His head fell forward, resting against the redhead’s chest as his stomach twisted tight; his hands seeking purchase on the redhead’s hipbones. Clever fingers pulled the zipper open before wrapping around his cock, slowly stroking him. Sanzo inhaled sharply as his arousal spiked higher. He had only his own hand for experience—being touched by another was far more intense, felt better than it had any right to. Sanzo was harder than he’d possibly ever been; it was all he could do but quietly grunt out his pleasure, feel everything he’d been missing as Gojyo stroked him from base to tip, thumbing the slit to spread the moisture that beaded at the head of his engorged cock.

“Can’t see.” Gojyo said to the top of Sanzo’s head which was blocking his view. Swallowing hard, the blond straightened himself, providing a clear view to where the hanyou was making him unravel. An appreciative groan fell from Gojyo’s lips as he continued to work the monk slowly, twisting now and then on the upstroke. Sanzo’s fingers clutched the waistband of Gojyo’s pants, wanting—just _wanting_ , but not knowing how to proceed. Gojyo used his free hand to pull his pants and underwear down, his ruddy cock springing free. Sanzo’s mouth went dry at the sight, his cock pulsing hard in Gojyo’s hand. The redhead grinned at him then; a filthy smile full of mirth that made his heart beat faster in his aching chest.

“Smug bastard.” Sanzo growled, turning the redhead’s quiet laughter into a ragged sigh as he pressed his hand to Gojyo’s length, palming it firmly. Glazed crimson eyes watched as Sanzo’s gun-calloused hand reciprocated. The pair were both becoming less stable on their feet and made a silent agreement to move to a bed. Gradually, they made it there, stroking each other until the back of Sanzo’s knees met the mattress. The blond still had enough presence of mind to pull the gun from his waistband and set it on the windowsill. Gojyo released his hold on the blond, smoothing his warm hands down denim-covered hips. He slowly sunk down to his knees, guiding the monk to sit on the bed in front of him. Sanzo wasn’t certain what the hanyou was playing at until Gojyo leaned forward and licked a stripe along the underside of his cock, a wanton expression on his face. A loud, broken cry sounded in the quiet room and heat flooded his face when Sanzo realized he was the one who made it. He grasped at the rough sheets, struggling to support himself with his arms as Gojyo circled the head of his cock with his tongue, teased the slit. 

Hands tugged insistently at his jeans, red eyes seeking approval. Nodding his assent, Gojyo peeled the pants down pale legs and tossed them aside. The appraising look on the redhead’s face as he drank in the sight of him rendered his skin to gooseflesh, nipples hardening to buds on a chest that was rising and falling rapidly. 

“Watch me, Sanzo.” Gojyo seductively whispered like a prayer. 

Sanzo’s licked his lips sympathetically, slowly spreading his legs enough to accommodate Gojyo as he moved in closer, his hair falling across the blond’s thighs. The redhead took him in hand again, circling the the root before parting his lips and drawing his cock into the delicious heat of his mouth. Gojyo’s tongue teased along his length as he took Sanzo as deep as he could manage, his hand stroking where his mouth could not. Bitten off groans fell from his mouth as Gojyo swallowed him down over and over, his eyes never leaving Sanzo’s. Gojyo’s penetrating gaze as he pleasured him set fire to the blond’s nerves with sharp, dangerous pleasure he had not known possible. Despite his best efforts, he quickly became overloaded, collapsing onto his back with a helpless sigh, his eyes falling shut. His hands made his way into Gojyo’s hair, stroking, urging him on by instinct alone. The hanyou moaned low in his throat as Sanzo started pumping into his mouth with what little leverage he had, raising his hips off the mattress. He guided Gojyo’s efforts, his fingers caressing the redhead's scalp as he learned what felt best. Sanzo let the sensations wash over him, growing ever closer to the spill-over point. He was so close, was shaking with the intensity of it—the vibration of Gojyo’s moaning cranking his lust higher still. The moans were coming faster, from deeper inside the redhead's chest and Sanzo realized Gojyo was fisting himself, his arm jostling the blond now and again as he worked his cock from where he knelt on the floor. He felt his own cock jerk against Gojyo at that bit of knowledge; almost came when the redhead hummed his approval at the taste of him that pulsed out onto his tongue.

The monk’s eyes flew open as Gojyo suddenly pulled free with a wet sound and a needy growl, hands grasping Sanzo's thighs, prying them farther apart with a jerk. A painful breath caught in Sanzo’s throat and for a sickening moment his stomach roiled unpleasantly. Too much, too fast; a spike of raw, half-forgotten fear lanced through him. Sanzo slammed his shaking legs back together, bumping into the resistance of Gojyo’s body nestled between them. At the sudden tension in Sanzo’s body, Gojyo gave him space, resting his hands on edge of the bed. Sanzo focused on schooling his body back to calm, shutting out images of a cruel, leering face with wild eyes looming over him. Reminded himself like a mantra that the man kneeling before him wasn't a thief in the woods who wanted to overpower and rob him of more than his possessions. Sanzo felt sick relief that Gojyo hadn't pulled on his ankle and that his gun was safely out of reach.

“Shit, you alright?” Gojyo’s breathless voice. Gojyo's words that reached him. Sanzo’s heart hammered against his ribcage, his short huffing breaths filling the air.

Propping himself on his elbows, Sanzo took in the hanyou’s appearance: fingers splayed on the sheets to either side of him, a light sheen of sweat in the hollows of his throat and chest. Crimson hair tousled from the blond's ministrations, his lips swollen and wet. Gojyo looked back at him from where he knelt, hooded eyes tinged with concern. Sanzo couldn't see from his angle half on the bed; imagined Gojyo's cock, thick and heavy with arousal.

“Sanzo?”

“I’m fine. Just get on with it.” The rasp in his voice undermined the challenge, but he wasn't a broken and scared child anymore. Sanzo ached—wanted what Gojyo offered despite not knowing fully what that entailed. If what Sanzo had experienced so far that night was any indication, he wanted to give himself over to it. 

Gojyo exhaled the breath he had been holding and languidly slid his hands over Sanzo's legs, drawing lazy circles with his thumbs. He nuzzled the soft skin of an inner thigh before resting his cheek against it.

“Tell me what you like.” Gojyo’s soft breaths fell against his skin, warming him.

“...I don’t know.” He ground out after a moment of consideration, frustration seeping into his voice.

Gojyo’s head shot up, eyes wide. “You really haven’t…?” He trailed off, not sure how to finish. 

Sanzo’s glare could have blistered paint. The monk only wanted to forget himself for the night; he had no intent to share the details of his past with Gojyo as way of explanation—they all had their own demons to bury. Sanzo had become quite skilled at hiding the shovels and graves. He started to turn away, face burning with exasperation.

The redhead gently grasped his wrist. “Wait, hang on. I take the piss outta you about this but I wasn't sure, honest.” 

Gojyo's mouth broke into a broad smile, wonderment shining in his eyes alongside the lust. “I’ve never been someone’s first.”

“Tch. I could be your last!” Gojyo’s first instinct was to get angry at the snarled threat until it struck him that Sanzo had not rejected him—not in the slightest. Spurred on, Gojyo stood and motioned for Sanzo to lay fully on the mattress but the blond sat up instead, gripping the loose fabric of Gojyo’s sleep pants before sliding them down his long legs. The redhead’s eyes didn’t leave Sanzo’s as he stepped out of his clothing.

“I want to fuck you. You want me?” Gojyo’s crass words came out husky, quickening Sanzo’s pulse.

After a small pause, Sanzo grunted an approval.

“You’re sure?”

“Do it already.” The hanyou shuddered visibly at the declaration, crimson eyes darkening further, but not moving any closer. 

“Need to tell me you want it.” Challenge issued, the redhead stood there in all his naked glory, waiting. He scratched at the top of his own pubic hair, feigning boredom. Gojyo made a positively undignified noise as Sanzo suddenly gripped his forearms and tumbled him down to the mattress on his side.

“What? You need a written invitation? Shut up and _fuck me._ ”

Sanzo had barely settled on his back before Gojyo was on him, nuzzling the blond’s neck and kissing from his pulse-point down to one pebbled nipple. A strangled cry escaped Sanzo as he swirled his tongue around the hardened nub and drew it into his mouth, teasing his other nipple to tautness with his fingers. Gojyo’s hand trailed down his ribs, across the firm muscles of his stomach, stroked his cock as he suckled one nipple, then the other. Sanzo pushed the knuckles of one hand against his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds falling from his lips, his other hand stroking Gojyo’s length in the limited space between their bodies. Gojyo reached lower, first cupping Sanzo’s balls before moving to press and massage the sensitive skin behind them. As the redhead applied more pressure, a thin stream of fluid spurted from Sanzo’s cock onto his stomach. The hanyou leaned over him and lapped it up sensuously with his tongue. 

“Fuck, yeah.” Gojyo purred, lips brushing against pale skin. A needy groan was the only response Sanzo could muster. Pulling back with a wink, Gojyo reached over the side of the bed to rummage through his duffel bag until he found what he was looking for. Sanzo swallowed nervously, knowing what it had to be even before he heard the cap flip open on the bottle. 

He tongued the shell of Sanzo’s ear before kissing him deeply, letting Sanzo taste himself from Gojyo’s hot mouth, swallowing the blond’s surprised gasp. With guidance, Sanzo spread his legs and brought a knee up as Gojyo traced along his cleft before slowly circling his entrance with a lubricated finger. The sensation was strange at first, but not unpleasant—until Gojyo pushed in to the first knuckle. Sanzo’s body tensed up, resisting progress.

“Try to breath. It’ll get better.” He sucked Sanzo’s earlobe into his mouth, breathed hotly into his ear, against his hair. The flush on Sanzo’s skin travelled to his chest as he drew one deep breath, then another, gradually allowing the finger inside him until it could go no further. Languidly, Gojyo withdrew and pressed back inside, establishing a gentle rhythm—let him get used to it before adding a second finger. Sanzo felt full, each thrust only adding to the ache and burn of protesting muscles. He started to question the veracity Gojyo’s words until he felt the fingers curl inside him, sending a spike of warm pleasure racing through his body. Sanzo covered his mouth to stifle a groan, but it slipped between his fingers as they flexed involuntarily. Gojyo increased his pace, setting his nerves on fire as he angled up inside him, the stimulation causing new wetness to bead at the head of his cock. The push and pull escalated until Sanzo was seeing small flickers of light behind his closed eyelids. His legs shook as Gojyo continued to open him up, prepare him for what was to come. Softly moaning and panting as his desire mounted, Sanzo realized did not care as the sounds tumbled free—allowed himself to feel good. The disappointment and anger that had built inside him from the day falling away little by little. 

Gojyo withdrew, rolling to his back and pulling Sanzo on top of him to straddle his lap. Gojyo’s hand slid down the small of his back, fingers pressing inside again—three instead of two. The penetration was more shallow, but the position afforded Sanzo more control. He sank lower on his knees and leaned forward, pressing his weeping cock alongside Gojyo’s, creating new friction.

“ _San—zo._ ” His voice broke as the monk wrapped his hand around both of them and stroked clumsily, Gojyo’s movements inside Sanzo jostling them both. Precariously balanced with one hand planted on the hanyou’s chest as he worked them together, he took in the crimson hair fanned out on the white sheets, a stray lock bisecting the long lines of his throat where quiet sounds of pleasure were catching. Sanzo felt the slickness from the tip of Gojyo’s cock, faintly smelled his desire; wanted to know how it would feel deep inside him. Had to know.

Sanzo sat up, releasing them and searching the sheets until he found what he was looking for. Gojyo snapped out of the haze he had fallen into when he felt the bottle pressing into his free hand. A look passed between them then, a moment suspended in time. They were at the precipice, about to tumble over the edge. No—they’d been falling for some time now, careening toward the inevitable, pulled down by the undeniable forces of need, attraction and desperation. Sanzo told himself this was about pleasure given, pleasure received—a temporary shelter from the creeping madness both external and internal. Nothing more. Anything else was a liability.

Gojyo slicked his length with teasing strokes, putting on a show for Sanzo who didn’t dare turn his eyes away. He whispered quiet endearments to Sanzo but the words were mostly lost to his heart pounding in his ears. The monk understood them well enough. Positioning Sanzo with a hand on one pale thigh, Gojyo grasped the base of his own cock and pressed against slick heat, guiding the blond to lower onto him. His cock was thicker, more blunt than the fingers that had worked to open him. Sanzo panted and shook above Gojyo, knees shifting on the mattress as he sank lower, the pressure against him increasing.

Sanzo didn’t think it would be possible to take him in, his body protesting and tense until Gojyo’s slick palm moved from his thigh to his cock, slowly pumping him. 

“Breath, breath. Let me in.” Sanzo could feel Gojyo’s body trembling beneath his, feel the muscles of his tan stomach flexing underneath his palms—coiled tight with anticipation and desire. Sanzo’s head rolled back on his shoulders, mouth opening in a silent cry as his body finally opened up enough to take in the head of Gojyo’s throbbing cock. His muscles protested painfully at first; the feeling quickly dissipating to a dull ache as he took the hanyou in bit by bit. Sanzo felt both of Gojyo’s hands slide to his hips, seeking purchase. The redhead’s head was thrown back, eyes closed as Sanzo bottomed out. He growled then, a deep, wild sound that made Sanzo’s cock twitch and drip onto Gojyo. He rested a moment, ass flush to groin, adjusting to Gojyo—slick and hot and so _alive_ inside him. 

Sanzo slowly raised himself until only the very tip of Gojyo’s cock was inside him before bottoming out again. 

“So tight, shit. Take it easy.” Gojyo said, shakily. His fingers flexing on his hips, encouraging him but not pushing. He slowly rode Gojyo, building confidence as he adjusted to the fullness, small jolts of pleasure blooming within him as he moved. He was in control of his pleasure, of Gojyo’s—the feeling exhilarated him, made his cock throb pleasantly. Gojyo exercised restraint, letting Sanzo learn the feel of him at his own pace. The panic he had felt earlier was fast becoming a distant memory. The redhead looked up at him, the wanton expression there urging him on. Sanzo moaned softly each time he took Gojyo to the root, deep and husky.

He began moving faster and faster over Gojyo, circling and canting his hips, chasing a sensation that seemed just out of reach. Sensing his frustration, Gojyo pulled Sanzo down against him and kissed him deeply as he bent his knees, planted his feet on the mattress for leverage and thrust into Sanzo’s tight heat from below. Gojyo adjusted the angle and thrust again, deeper, hitting the spot he had been stimulating with his fingers earlier. The feeling was far more intense than before, taking Sanzo’s breath away and sending sparks across his vision. He cried out loudly into Gojyo’s mouth, drowning out the redhead’s groans. 

Sanzo tore his mouth away, breathing harshly. His golden hair was disheveled, falling across his face and tickling Gojyo’s skin as the blond rested his head against him. 

“Harder. Fuck me.” Sanzo sobbed into Gojyo’s shoulder, coming apart at the seams.

Gojyo’s cock pulsed hard inside him in response. He pushed his slick cock into Sanzo with increased urgency, going hard and deep, snapping his hips against his ass now and again. Sanzo started meeting Gojyo halfway, rocking against him, establishing a hard, grinding fuck that had them both panting and groaning before long. The monk reached between their bodies, taking himself in hand. Being filled by Gojyo and fisting himself overstimulated him, causing his rhythm to falter. Gojyo’s cock slid out of his ass and into his cleft. Sanzo managed to sink back onto Gojyo with help but he was uncoordinated, drunk on the waves of pleasure racing through him. Still joined, Gojyo rolled Sanzo onto his back with a grunt, shifted his pale thighs and surged deeper still inside him. The loud keening moan that fell from Sanzo’s mouth was unlike all the ones before it. Gojyo softly laughed, a joyful sound that was low and sexy—the blush on Sanzo’s skin deepened further.

Glazed eyes with the barest hint of amethyst visible tried to focus, memorize the details of red hair framing a handsome face, the grin replaced by a mouth that groaned and gasped with each thrust, the muscles of a lean torso tightening and shifting with exertion, the reddened cock as it sank into him over and over again as he looked down between his own trembling thighs. It was impossible to concentrate on any one thing as Gojyo moved his hips in earnest, attempting to fuck Sanzo within an inch of his life. Sanzo’s strong legs wrapped around him, heels pushing Gojyo’s ass, driving him deeper still. One of Sanzo’s hands moved to cover his mouth as his volume increased; the last thing he wanted was for them to be interrupted by Hakkai and Goku. He needed to come, craved release so intensely he could taste it from the back of his throat. Gojyo pulled the hand away from his face, threading his fingers through Sanzo’s and pushing their joined hands into the mattress.

“Wanna hear you...so hot.” The blond replied with a sarcastic snort that quickly melted into a drawn out moan as Gojyo snapped his hips against him to illustrate the point—score one for the kappa. The fingers of Sanzo’s captured hand clenched. If the hanyou kept doing that to him, he couldn’t be bothered to concern himself with staying quiet. Even if their other companions were hovering disapprovingly at the foot of the bed, he might not care. He shivered and swiftly pushed the thought of voyeurs from his mind.

Gojyo intently watched as Sanzo started stroking himself again. Pressure was accumulating in his balls, the base of his spine, and from deep within as the Gojyo moved above and inside him. Gojyo wrapped his free arm around his leg, pushing it higher, opening Sanzo further and thrusting his cock dead onto the bundle of nerves that cranked his lust closer to the spillover point. Sanzo finally and completely came undone when Gojyo looked to him with hooded eyes, clutched his thigh and gently kissed the inside of his knee. He cried out and his vision turned white at the edges as his climax thundered through him—Sanzo was flying apart, falling to pieces and no one would ever be able to put him back together the exact same way. It felt like all his nerves were on fire, burning deep within him; felt like he was living and dying all at once. All his pent up rage, discouragement and melancholy dissipated, replaced by the all-encompassing rush of pleasure. In that moment, he gained a better understanding of the redhead’s midnight liaisons. 

They both shuddered as his muscles tightened and fluttered around Gojyo’s length, drawing him impossibly closer. He was dimly aware that Gojyo had slowed, languidly moved inside him as he rode out Sanzo’s peak. In the space between their bodies, his release had marked them both. Gojyo licked at the errant drops on Sanzo’s collar bone, tasting—all the while slowly sinking into him, their hands still entwined on the bed. The thrusts were shallow as Gojyo had released his thigh, letting Sanzo’s legs go boneless on the mattress. Wrapping his legs around Gojyo’s waist again, he pulled the redhead down flush to him, encouraging him to move as he wanted to find his own release. Relieved, Gojyo nuzzled his neck, shaking and moaning against him as he quickened his pace once more. Despite being utterly spent, despite the ache of his raw nerves, Gojyo’s increasingly uncoordinated movements still felt incredible. Sanzo sighed contentedly against the hanyou’s sweat-slicked skin, running shaky fingers over the soft strands at the redhead's temple. He pressed his mouth to Gojyo’s straining neck at the pulse-point. 

“ _Gojyo._ ” At hearing his name murmured in the deep timbre of Sanzo’s voice, the redhead groaned helplessly, letting go. He thrust to the hilt a few more times before spilling, hips tight against Sanzo as fitful jerks seized his body. Sanzo felt heat bloom inside him as Gojyo captured his lips, moaning with ecstasy into the blond’s mouth. Unclasping their fingers, Gojyo collapsed on top of Sanzo and ran both hands into his hair as they lazily kissed, still coupled. Exhaustion sapping his strength, Sanzo was content to let his arms fall down to rest on the sheets—allowing Gojyo to kiss him just as he had at the start. Before long, Gojyo settled his head in the crook of Sanzo’s neck. They lay that way together for a time with only the sound of their breathing breaking the silence of the room.

“You’re too damn heavy.” Sanzo eventually slurred, fighting the enticement of sleep. 

“Hm? Oh, sorry.” The hanyou was still dazed as he rolled off and onto his side, Sanzo hissing quietly as his softening cock pulled out, some of Gojyo’s spend escaping along with it. Drained as he was, Sanzo didn’t have the energy to care about the mess they had made of each other. Gojyo started speaking quietly, but the words didn’t reach him. He vaguely felt the sheets being pulled over him as he drifted into a deep dreamless slumber.

\-----

He awoke some time later as the dawn sun landed on his face through the window. Blinking slowly, he saw fire at the edge of his vision. Perplexed, his turned his head and saw Gojyo sleeping next to him on the bed. The crimson strands of his hair were splayed out on the sheets, shining bright like flame where the sunlight struck them. Without thinking, he reached out and twirled a section of hair between his thumb and forefinger, moving it in and out of the sun.

“Wake up, kappa.” He said gruffly as reality set in, wishing he had washed up before falling asleep. They needed to eat breakfast and get back on the road soon. Despite his need to bathe and the soreness that had settled in his muscles, facing the burden of another day’s travel didn’t seem so daunting that morning—Sanzo felt lighter than he had in a very long time.

When Gojyo didn’t stir, Sanzo impatiently gave the strand a yank. Gojyo came to blearily with a yelp.

“...Did you just pull my hair?” He rolled to his stomach, burying his face in a pillow. 

Sanzo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pushed him off the bed with his foot instead. Gojyo landed in an undignified heap on the floor, cursing a blue streak as he tried to untangle the sheets from his long legs. 

“What the hell, Sanzo?” He shouted then spluttered incoherently as something hit him in the chest. He looked down and saw it was his cigarettes and lighter as Sanzo disappeared into the bathroom. 

When Sanzo emerged, washed and dressed in his robes, he saw Gojyo was also dressed. The hanyou was smoking by the window, his duffel packed and ready on the bed. He nodded to Gojyo and they made their way downstairs to meet the others. 

Food was consumed and squabbles over said food were broken up with extreme paper fan prejudice while Hakkai smiled on. Supplies were purchased, the innkeeper du jour thanked them for their patronage and they piled into the Jeep to continue their journey. Further down the road, they took down yet another pack of youkai that had been shouting about both eating their resident monk and stealing the scripture. 

_Business as usual._ At least until Sanzo caught Gojyo’s eyes in the rearview. The redhead looked like he wanted to swallow him whole. Sanzo knew eternal youth wasn’t what he was after. His pulse quickened and heat spread through his body, settling heavy between his legs as he recalled the previous night. Sanzo thought ruefully that sleeping with Gojyo had been a monumental error on his part. The redhead’s allure was undeniable now—Sanzo wanted more of what he shouldn’t have desired in the first place. He was half-tempted to wax philosophical on Icarus and his relationship with the sun. Despite himself, Sanzo covertly returned the hungry expression, feeling a dark thrill as Gojyo shifted in the backseat. 

For the second time, he pushed away the intrusive images of what never happened: crimson hair matted from battle, still on the grass—now overwriting them with the reality that was Gojyo’s sunlit strands from the morning. The monk refocused his eyes and mind on the road ahead, considering a cigarette.


End file.
